Sorry for neglecting you guys, haha. Nonetheless, it's the June holidays so I might be updating more often. (HAHAHAHA JOKES) No, I will try.
Graphic murder, violence and gore is mentioned. Will be started from ☆ and ended at ☆ as well. Also be wary of major(?) character death.
Short summary will be provided at the end in the most easiest and non-triggering way possible.
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"It's too early!"
"What? What happened, Aeth?"
"I don't know! He's not supposed to go to a 100% now! He was still developing! He was learning... H-He..."
"Hush, what happened to him. Something must have triggered it."
"I can't see his location! He's gone, he's lost. My boy's lost."
"Can you track him through Nabiel?"
"No! I tried, he answered but he couldn't finish. He's being affected too!"
"What about Roderich? The clouds? His brother? What about his soulma-"
"Roderich is only connected to Nabiel and Nabiel alone. The clouds refuse to show me due to privacy. His brother is sleeping, resting. He has no idea of what's going on. And my boy hasn't even met the spider yet, how would he possibly know!?"
"The MRA? They have a connection with him, don't they?"
"Sorry, sis, but... They haven't even met him personally yet. That isn't enough for them to bond."
"Then we'll hope for the best."
"But what if he gets hurt?"
"You created him, my sister. Just like Netheria created Kenneth and Pierce. How Endia created Katrina and Odelia. You created Hero and Nabiel. I don't know what traits you gave him, but this is based on what you have given him years ago."
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When Hero woke, he was standing oddly still. He felt high, or drunk, for some reason. He forced his legs and arms to move, but to no avail. Hero tried desperately, but his mind did not feel right. Hero found himself in the same situation his mind was in when he was having future visions.
It actually worked.
Hero growled and stopped himself. He rolled his lips again, surprised to hear the feral sound roll from his mouth easily.
You're at your full potential, little hero. I will help you discover everything you need to know about your core. About your power.
What? What is happening? What did you do to me? Why can't I move?
In response, Hero watched as his hand lifted to stretch and coil. He couldn't feel it though.
Oh, but you can. The controls have just switched from you to me, that's all.
The stiff legs started to move and Hero winced at the ache.
Wonderful on how I can control your body, yet you feel all the pain. I wonder what happens if you jump off the balcony.
Don't you dare.
Hero heard himself chuckle darkly. Hero's body looked around before he muttered, "I can use your senses too, interesting. Your core enhanced your sight, smell and hearing. Fascinating."
The general snarled, another primal sound, as he heard his own voice not sound right. It sounded dark and cold. Hero watched himself walk to the bathroom, and reach out to the tiny box of sharp blades in the corner. His nimble fingers twirled it before settling on top of a crisscrossed scar on Hero's right arm.
"Can you feel this?"
The blade proceeded to prick his skin and slide cleanly down the side. Blots of red appeared. It grew as it trickled down Hero's arm. The general let out a hiss. He had no idea why he could make such animalistic sounds.
"You can heal rather fast."
Hero tore his eyes down to the cut, where the skin worked to pull back together, to seal the small cut. It sealed cleanly, and became a bloodstained scar on his arm. Hero watched with awe. There weren't even any scabs. It healed plainly and quickly. What is this?
"Look at yourself. You look more lovely now."
Hero gasped as he saw himself in the bathroom mirror. His face remained stoic, eyes half-lidded and hair in a mess. The hand wiped away the dried tear tracks before reaching for the dagger tucked in his belt. Hero watched as Derrek forced his body to move against its will. He watched as one of his hands untied his long hair he grew out, and held it out. He felt the sensation of telekinesis as Derrek poised the dagger before the strands.
He watched his own mouth move. He heard his voice. "You'll look much more nicer with short hair, don't you think?"
The dagger moved easily, and Hero heard the drag of the blade as it cut through his golden locks. He saw some fall to the floor, and watched his now short and messy hair dangle. The other hand still held his locks of hair. Hero then paid attention to his eyes. They weren't the same anymore.
He no longer saw blue.
His left eye was like what Derrek mentioned earlier. Gleaming pure white like pearls. The other, was just like Derrek's eyes. Green with red slits and black irises. Hero watched dark thick tears run down his own cheeks. The disbelief went away and was replaced with fury. Hero curled his lips back and let out the most ferocious roar he could make.
"Calm down, cub. You've made yourself bleed again. Has your wrist healed? It's one of your many powers, I'll have you know."
Hero's wrist gave an experimental twist, and the aching was gone. The cut had healed back again as well. The pile of hair in the other hand caught his attention when it disappeared in his hand.
"You are also able to make things disappear from sight and summon it back. You have a little storage space I guess. Somewhere."
Hero's body strides into the bedroom, and his head turned to face the wardrobe. "Do you have an old cloak I could use? Or you could use? I don't know how to refer to this vessel, honestly."
Why would you need a cloak? What are you going to do?
Derrek, since he was using and controlling Hero, rummaged around the wardrobe before pulling out an oversized brown cloak. He strapped it on and grabbed the sword in the corner. He went out to the balcony, and the sun was just beginning to set. Hard to believe that Markus almost drowned that morning. Hero felt his own face smile against his wishes.
"Your mind is very open and noisy, little hero. I just roamed around and found deep dark secrets. Quite rude of you to hide all these good stuff from everyone."
What?
"Your biggest fears are odd for a soldier... Why would a general be afraid of killing others? Is it because of the nightmares, your slight PTSD or do you not want to end up like your father?"
Shut up. You don't own nor know me.
"But I do now. Your favorite color is blue, pity for your eyes. You are excellent at the violin. You love berries but hate cheese for some reason. You are sensory-sensitive. Those are one of your biggest fears too. You love cats. Shall we delve deeper?"
Don't you dare.
"You're an actual hero to your little brother. You saved him all those years ago from the abusive hands of your father. You saved him this morning from the clutches of water. You have stared at men and not too much at women. Your mother's death was your biggest regret. Her death made you fear fire. Markus' near death made you fear water. You have nightmares about every traumatic experience you have gone through. You have killed. You're no longer the sweet boy your mother would have wanted you to be."
Hearing his own voice tell him everything there is to know about himself was frightening. Hero struggled in the black void, trying to free himself from Derrek's grasps on his mind. He felt himself be free for a little moment, as his fingers moved to his will but Derrek overcame him and wrapped around him tighter than before.
"Behave. Let's take you up on that fear. You're afraid of killing people. I'm here to help, remember. Oh, and I still wonder what happens if you jump from here..."
Derrek moved him to leap and land on the railings of the balcony. Hero was forced to stare down. He was five floors from the grassy patch below. Hero was usually alright with heights, but he would never voluntarily throw himself off a balcony. His fear increased with the words laced in his own voice.
"Let's overcome your fear then."
He jumped.
Hero shut his eyes, refusing to see. Derrek was still smiling, he could tell from the strain in his cheeks. The air around them shifted and it felt extremely comfortable. It was like being violated from every surface. Hero felt the wind rushing at his feet slow down and guide him slowly to the ground. He opened his eyes and found himself floating delicately to the grass.
"Disappointing. Expected more of blood or something. Hmph."
Hero was beyond relieved. He watched as Derrek tied the cloak tightly around his neck, keeping his face hidden. He watched with slight awe as his hand slid past his military shirt, turning it to a turquoise shirt and his military pants to tight fitting purple trousers. It stretched with every step forward.
Your fashion sense sucks.
"Instead of being awed by your power of illusion, you commented on my fashion sense. Quality soldier right there. But, you're quite right. Red would look great, won't it?"
Hero lurched with the dizzy feeling of teleportation and found himself standing in between two houses. He had no idea where he was. The sun had already set, but Hero could see rather well in the dark. Another asset to his 'core', he thinks.
What are you going to do? Where are we?
"Nothing much to affect me. But a lot to destroy your pretty mind and status. We're in some village."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"And you're a hungry serial killer tonight."
It took some time for Hero to process that but once he did, he tried his very hardest to regain control over his own body. Derrek gave a mocking laugh before he tightened the cloak around his head, covering his face. He moved with mastered stealth and jumped to a window ledge. He peered in and Hero saw a man sleeping peacefully in his home.
He recognized that man. He would recognize that silver hair anywhere. He saw the wood wand hidden in the sleeves of Darryl's shirt. Hero tried to scream, to wake him up for him to get away from there, to get away from him. The familiar 'sensation' of panic settled into his bones, and brief flashes of his nightmares and previous deaths he has watched played before his eyes. Hero could feel the burning feeling at the corner of his eyes; he could feel his tears coming.
He blinked them away furiously, not allowing himself to let Derrek see him in his vulnerable state. Derrek snorted at that. He brandished the sword he brought along, and crept inside. The floorboards were (unfortunately) cooperating that night and Hero-Derrek, fuck, he doesn't know how to refer to himself anymore. His mind and body were literally not functioning together, damnit.
So, his name is Darryl? Darryl Lance... What was it? Awfully long name. Kirkland? Darryl Lance Kirkland, that's a mouthful.
"Darryl," he cooed.
Hero gulped as he saw silver eyes blink open and draw his wand out of instinct. Darryl looked up at him in horror, shock then confusion. He sat against the headboard, his wand still in his fingers. "What are you doing here? It's midnight. Is it about your weird quirks again? Can we discuss this in the morning."
He was silent as he peered closer at Hero. "What happened to your eyes?! Why are they white? Is that one bleeding? Is that black blood? Hero, what the fuck?"
Hero felt his face throw the best worried and kicked puppy face as he seethed inside. "It's an emergency." His eyes darted to a potion on the night stand.
What is that potion?
Why would I tell you?
Hero's hand squeezed the blade hidden behind his back.
Or else we'll cut your friend's life earlier than expected.
Hero bit back his frenzy emotions and let out a deep exhale.
Blood replenishing.
Good boy.
"Can you follow me out for a little bit? I need to show you something."
Darryl gave him a look before nodding. He grumbled under his breath as he got out of bed, putting on his slippers before trudging outside slowly. Hero smiled as he followed him to the living room. Darryl crashed onto the couch and asked, "Well, what is it?"
Hero still stood, his hand clasped around his sword behind him. He looked down at his feet and said, "I'm having... Urges."
Darryl frowned. "Urges? To do what?"
"This."
Hero revealed his sword, his face twisting into a malicious grin. Darryl sprung up, fetching his wand from his sleeve and fired an offensive spell. Out of instinct, Hero's hand shot out and a blue barrier rose from the ground, forming around him and deflecting the spell. It fired back onto Darryl, who was thrown against the wall.
Nice shield.
What are you doing?!
Exterminating those who will betray you, of course. Mr. Kirkland here has been suspicious of all your powers.
He's concerned!
Is concern supposed to be outing your dear friend to the Order of Magic?
He's my friend. He would never do that.
He was about to. He was planning to inform the Master Warlock the next time you get pulled into a meeting.
Hero guided his shield with him, stepping towards Darryl with the same sadistic grin. Darryl stared up at him with confusion as he choked out, "What's wrong with you?"
Hero cocked his head and cooed, "What do you mean? I'm just doing what's best for me."
Darryl struggled to get to his feet. "You won't gain anything by killing, Hero."
He furrowed his brows and stared at Hero with sorrow, "You were just a kid. What ever happened to you that caused this?" He gestured to all of Hero.
Hero raised a brow, "Life and realization."
Darryl coughed out some blood, the impact on the wall must have knocked the life out of him. "Realization of what?!"
Hero discarded his shield and raised the til of his sword to rest at Darryl's neck. He knelt down to trail the sword down to Darryl's stomach. "I realized that I was weak and worthless. But these powers, these privileges, they help in becoming stronger and useful."
What are you talking about?
Your sweet, sweet depression. It's such a sad little thing when I stumbled upon it. It's not as bad as your stress disorder, though. That's a whole other thing.
My what?
Darryl cut him off and spat, "You were never weak! Any 18-year-old would not survive in a war. You were just a teenager when you were forced to fight in the rebellion. You won. You're just coming into your adult years, Hero. You're not worthless."
Does that make you feel better?
I did not need to hear that. Can we just go?
Everything's just getting started, little hero.
"Hero, are you okay now? You don't have to do this. Whatever is eating you inside out in that head, just talk to me. Okay?" Darryl was looking at him with pleading eyes, still struggling to stand up.
"Okay." Hero muttered, relaxing his hand holding his sword. He reached out with his other hand, offering to help Darryl up.
☆
Darryl accepted it and tightened his grip to pull himself up until Hero pulled Darryl to himself, sword raised instantly into position.
And piercing right through Darryl's fabric and flesh.
Actual Hero, forced to watch himself murder his old friend, surprisingly did not make a sound. Derrek compensated the silence with a sick cackle as he twisted the sword in Darryl, before swinging a leg to Darryl's stomach and kicking him straight off the sword. Blood littered the ground and tainted Hero's appearance. He looked deadly.
☆
Only until then did Hero make a sound. He started off with whimpers, his lips trembling before he full out sobbed. He had never felt so vulnerable. He had never felt so wrong. He had never felt so disgusted with himself. He had never truly let out his insecurities, fears and worries and most importantly, he had never shown his weaker, softer side to anyone except Markus. Even Markus does not see it often.
Now, it's laid out prettily for Derrek to skim through, to observe and to study. He had used it against Hero and did exactly what happened in Hero's nightmares.
The cackles ceased when Darryl plopped down onto the floor again, back against the wall. His hand flew to his wound, clutching. He tried to reach out for his wand, that had fallen from his grip, but Hero got to it first. It flew to his hand and holding it with fingers, he snapped it in front of Darryl's eyes. The wood broke with a silver spark before it fell in two broken pieces onto the floor.
Darryl breaths were harsh and forced as blood seeped from his fingers. Hero watched in horror, Derrek in awe as the bloodstain spread further and wider. It had covered his entire shirt by the time Darryl raised his head to stare up at Hero. There was no recognition, there was no warmth, there was no happiness. All Hero could see was pain, betrayal and fear.
Derrek basked in those emotions, it made his will to destroy stronger. And he will destroy through his pitiful puppet, Hero.
"Whatever or whoever changed the boy I once knew, fuck them."
Ouch. Well, we best be going. Let's celebrate your first step to becoming stronger in your room. You've got alcohol, right?
Hero was still frozen. Derrek kicked dust and grime over to Darryl's trembling body and wiped his bloodied boots on the carpet. The all-too familiar pull of teleportation shook Hero into reality and he found himself safe in his own body. He was in his room, clothes still a bloody mess, hands clasped around his sword and Derrek lounging on his chair.
He collapsed to his knees in shock and Derrek frowned. "A strong soldier should be able to stand a bit of blood. Get up, little hero."
Hero swerved to stare accusingly at Derrek as he yelled, "Why the fuck did you do that? He's going to die!"
Derrek smirked and got up, strolling to Hero's side as he curled his fingers underneath the Swede's chin. He tilted Hero's head towards his as he leant down. "I did you a favor. And what if he dies? One less possible traitor in your life."
All Hero could feel was pure fury. "He was trying to help me!"
He got to his feet and pushed Derrek back. When Derrek stumbled, Hero let his sword's blade rest on the man's neck. "I can fucking kill you right now, you... You monster!"
Derrek was calm, a sinister smile on his face as he gently pushed the sword away from his neck. He leant in Hero's personal space again and whispered, "How am I the monster? Look at you."
Hero did not give in to the command. He was still narrowing his eyes at Derrek, still furious. Derrek continued. "You're the bloody one, not me. Your sword is in your hands. Darryl looked at your face. It was all you, little hero. You killed him. I was giving just a little support, that's all."
Hero dropped his sword. It fell to the ground with a thunderous clang that broke the silence. Hero brought his bloodied hands to his hair, staining the golden locks. He shook his head in denial, eyes blown and lips trembling. Derrek patted his back in mock comfort, sniggering. Hero felt the sudden urge to run to the bathroom and wash all the filth off of him. He was impure, disgusting, revolting.
He felt Derrek's hot breath below his ear. "You can't get rid of me, Hero. I am stronger than you ever will be. If you dare go against my orders, I can easily take control. You love your brother right? He's the last of your pitiful family, am I not wrong?"
Hero shuddered. "Answer me, doll."
The Swede could not get rid of the ball forming in his throat as he submitted, "Yes."
Hero caught sight of Derrek's smile. "Just imagine what I would force you to do to him if you ever disobey. I can already think of colorful and creative methods just to remove his eyes. Y'know, to match yours."
Hero's head snapped up, and he immediately protested, "No! Don't hurt him, please."
Derrek rolled his eyes and said, "Then don't disobey, simple. Got that?"
Hero nodded. Derrek glared angrily and gave a warning growl before Hero caught his mistake and answered, "Yes."
"Then have a brilliant evening."
He disappeared.
Hero bolted to the bathroom, turning on the tap and filling up the tub with scalding hot water. He stripped down, tearing his blood stained military shirt and casting away his cloak before stepping in. He welcomed the warmth, and did his best in scrubbing away the blood, grime and filth. He scrubbed harshly and did it repeatedly. By the third time, Hero's soft skin was rough and red.
He was frightened to even touch his bed. He knew for a fact that there would be more nightmares, and they would be more terrifying.
Hero was terrified of himself.
Summary:
Using his control over Hero's body, Derrek stabbed Darryl, forcing Hero to watch.